


If I Go, I Go

by secondhandact



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Desperation Play, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I broke up DaveKat and DirkJake for gratuitous hurt/comfort feels, M/M, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Sburb, Sibling Incest, Stridercest Secret Santa, and Dirk is his prince in shining armor, in which Dave is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandact/pseuds/secondhandact
Summary: Any holiday is an excuse for Rose to throw a party, so she does - several times, every year, and you don't attend. After all, asking the whole crew to choose between you and Karkat after The Fight was cruel, and besides, it's your actual Game-given ectofamily. You'll give him the holidays, because you can see them whenever.But it's different if you're needed to be moral support. Or a wingman. Or a rebound?Whatever.If you go, you go.





	1. The Dirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nuclearwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearwinter/gifts).



> This is being posted a day late because I was called in to work a double and when I got home I found my computer had friend and lost my last day's progress, so I had some work to do before I was comfortable throwing this up here!  
> Merry late Christmas, this was a blast writing, and I've got a lovely New Years' treat shaping up for my giftee, as a thank-you for their patience in waiting for this slightly late gift.

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:15:01 on 12.01!

TT: You're coming to my Solstice party.  
TG: oh hi to you too rose  
TG: hows the kids  
TG: good i hope  
TG: your girlfriend still lighting up rooms like a freshly cracked glowstick at an early 2000s rave  
TG: cool good talk  
TG: anyway im not coming to your holiday party  
TT: Karkat's not going to be there.  
TG: what why  
TG: those arent the terms of the divorce  
TT: He made a post about it on Trollbook.  
TT: He's taking the winter to find himself.  
TG: did that weird clown trolls bullshit finally get to him  
TG: i think i liked him better when he was a psychotic monster who wanted to rip off my face  
TG: its weird to think that without the influence of the game and a heavy dose of THC hes just everybodys best bud  
TT: I don't know who Karkat's been hanging out with.  
TT: His business isn't exactly my business.  
TT: The point is, he isn't coming to the party, which means you are.  
TG: no  
TT: Yes.  
TG: no  
TT: Yes.  
TG: no  
TT: Dave, it's been two and a half years.  
TG: yeah   
TG: and per the terms of the divorce he gets all the major holiday parties and every other summer until his untimely demise   
TG: which shouldnt be untimely at all ftr but w/e you know the rules  
TT: We're not talking about it.  
TG: thats right   
TG: were not talking about it  
TG: anyway i havent been to a party in two years wtf makes you think i want to go to one now  
TT: This isn't about you.  
TT: Well, it is, but it's also about the fact that you have family.  
TT: And friends.  
TG: and all of you should know im fine  
TT: Your last SBAHJ comic was just Sweet Bro staring into a refracting pot leaf that had the word SAD in strobing letters embedded in the leaves.  
TT: You're not subtle.  
TG: ugh  
TG: is this an intervention  
TT: No.  
TT: This is a chance to show that you don't need an intervention.  
TG: so what you want me to come out  
TG: make nice  
TG: put on a show and do a twirl and then come home  
TT: You know what?   
TT: If you come out and are really so miserable that you just want to go home, I won't stop you.  
TT: But everybody misses you and I _know_ you, Dave.  
TG: this still has big mistake written all over it  
TT: I swear on my Title that this is going to be fine.  
TG: let me say again in case you missed it the first time  
TG: u g h  
TT: 22 is too young to be starting that whole lonely hermit god thing.  
TT: Come to the party.  
TT: See your family and friends.  
TT: Besides, Jake and Dirk are on the rocks and he could use someone to mope with.  
TG: what  
TG: whats up with the dynamic duo  
TT: You really do just live under a rock, don't you?  
TT: The party's on the 21st.   
TT: Be sharp or don't be at all.  
TG: if i go i go  
TT: Don't turn this into a thing.  
TT: You better go.  
TT: So I'll see you then.

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 22:07:23 on 12.01!

* * *

* * *

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 13:35:04 on 12.02!

TG: hey are you going to roses thing on solstice  
GG: You betcha!  
GG: Are you going to be gracing the host with your presence?  
TG: if i go i go  
TG: so  
TG: crocker  
TG: the janiest of janes  
TG: are you in the know  
GG: In the know?  
TG: in the know  
GG: I am at least somewhat in the know about many subjects!  
GG: What particular field interests you today?  
TG: the field of striderology and englishness   
TG: and their current state of affairs  
GG: Why, Dave!  
GG: It sounds like you're seeking _gossip._  
GG: :O  
TG: what  
TG: me  
TG: gossip  
TG: you wound me  
TG: so do you have the dirt or not  
GG: You would do better asking my dear bubblegum-sweet princess.  
GG: Who is probably going to be offended that you didn't ask her first, my dear chum!  
GG: Though I do know it concerns a certain canid-eared friend.  
GG: and Jake's stuttering inability to communicate, as usual.  
TG: that sucks  
TG: has anyone talked to jade  
TG: should i talk to jade  
GG: I don't know.  
GG: This is Gossip with a real capital G!  
GG: I am keeping my flour-coated fingers out of everybody else's pies and all to myself.  
TG: jeez  
TG: a guy goes dormant for a couple years and the whole place falls apart  
TG: half of the gossip girls wont gossip and nobodys talked to jade  
GG: Are you going to meddle?  
TG: i might meddle  
TG: is rolal herself going to meddle  
GG: Ask her yourself.  
GG: See you at the party!  
GG: I'd suggest wearing the sweater Rose sent you last year.  
GG: It's something of a tradition, you see. :B  
TG: a what  
GG: A tradition!  
TG: no  
TG: i have been gone two years  
TG: two years is not long enough for something to be a tradition  
GG: I still strongly suggest you wear one!

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 14:02:21 on 12.02!

* * *

* * *

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 18:09:13 on 12.03!

TG: heeeeey strider the beta  
TG: sp  
TG: *sup  
TG: u rly gonnan grace us w/ur presence this solstice?  
TG: gotta say im p hype  
TG: if i go i go  
TG: but this still feels off  
TG: i know rose thinks its just  
TG: coincidence or whatever  
TG: but im not stupid  
TG: i know hes not going so that ill go  
TG: and its gonna be weird being at solstice without him  
TG: are we talking about this  
TG: bc you know dave i think it would be good 4 u to talk about this!!  
TG: but i know the rule  
TG: its a stupid rule  
TG: but i also know u made it for yourself for a reason!  
TG: yeah  
TG: yeah no  
TG: you know the rule  
TG: yep!!  
TG: we're not talkin abt it!  
TG: okay but even if we arent talking about it  
TG: rolal this is gonna be the first time ive been there  
TG: since you know what even happened  
TG: yeaaah i know  
TG: i can bring you margaritas while ur on the couch again  
TG: i dont think i can spend the whole night drinking margaritas on the couch  
TG: not while the rest of our fams is hamming it up in the various rooms of the lalonde mcmansion from hell  
TG: its not a mcmansion from hell!!  
TG: how many minibars are in that house  
TG: uhh  
TG: i rest my case  
TG: jokes on you because youuuu just made my case stronger!  
TG: if its a mcmansion from hell then you can just find a different couch to drink margaritas on!  
TG: and thats ok davey it rly rly is  
TG: youve got me n di-stri lookin out 4 ya ;)  
TG: we can run interference n reroute partygoers around yr total drama couch-iusland  
TG: *island  
TG: this just seems like a lot of bullshit to go through  
TG: nobodys saying it but i know hes not coming because of me  
TG: ok consider this: kk isnt cool with having taken away your whole family  
TG: n like it or not! thats kindof what happened   
TG: u say youll drop in whenevs but you never do  
TG: and u know if 2 years n change is a long time to _him_  
TG: maybe its time you stop avoiding the inevitable n talk to him?  
TG: js   
TG: i am a level of unready for that that trumps all other levels of unready for anything else   
TG: i am more unready than a newborn baby is to play teeball  
TG: ok then just come  
TG: i miss you!  
TG: rose misses you!  
TG: john and jade and jake and eeeeevverrrybody misses you!  
TG: yeah  
TG: fuck  
TG: alright  
TG: thats a good idea  
TG: okay, i'll do it  
TG: youll come?  
TG: ill come  
TG: yay!!!  
TG: also p.s. dirk is also going to be excited to see you   
TG: yeah speaking of dirk whats up w him and jake  
TG: Some Shit and those capitals are intentional  
TG: did you kno he had a fight with jake about a certain other strider boy  
TG: wait what  
TG: yep  
TG: something about double standards and hypocrisy  
TG: oh thats some sweet dirt youre giving me right now hold on lemme just  
TG: shovel that right into the dirt chute hell yeah what else you got  
TG: :O dave r u gonna meddle  
TG: are you gonna meddle  
TG: nnnno i dont think so!  
TG: so why dont u go talk to dirk himself  
TG: i kno he misses you  
TG: you think so  
TG: i know so!!  
TG: hes my bestie and i know a think or two about you Striders!  
TG: truuuuuust me ;)

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:10:45 on 12.03!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:11:09 on 12.03!

TG: dont 4get ur rise sweater!  
TG: *ose  
TG: *rose  
TG: and happy bday!!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:12:15 on 12.03!


	2. The Dirk

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turnTechGodhead [TG] at 23:25:02 on 12.04!

TG: before you say anything is it tradition to wear roses sweaters to the solstice party  
TT: Of course it is.   
TT: You'd know that if you were sociable.   
TG: hey im trying to change that up  
TG: expand my social horizons  
TG: come out of my stasis you know all that  
TT: Yeah, I know.  
TT: In fact, I even hear you talked to Jane recently.  
TG: word travels fast  
TT: Cut the shit.   
TT: Why did you ask Jane about me and Jake instead of asking me yourself?  
TG: because you should have told me yourself for the same reasons youre mad now  
TG: dude why didnt you tell me you and jake were on the rocks  
TT: Because we've already been each other's rebounds once, and I don't want to use you again.  
TG: as has been told to me at least twice in the past week  
TG: it has been two and a half years  
TG: im pretty well over it  
TT: Of all the people you can tell that to, I am not one of them.  
TG: you know the rule  
TG: but we can break it if you want  
TT: Personally, I think you need to break it more.  
TT: Are we talking about it?  
TG: yeah i guess so  
TT: Then let's be real: you don't talk like you're over him.   
TG: i think i am allowed to not be over him in his lifetime  
TG: especially since he's made the decision that it just be this one  
TG: but we arent talking about me  
TT: We have to talk about you.  
TG: no we dont  
TG: We have forever and he doesn't  
TG: thats his hard and fast rule  
TT: No offense mr. I-Know-More-Than-You, but that probably won't stick.  
TT: Karkat hasn't been as isolating as you have.  
TT: More than a few of his friends know he doesn't intend on braving forever with us.  
TG: how are they taking it  
TT: I thought we weren't talking about you?  
TG: dont be a fucking ass  
TG: i know i havent been super curious but   
TT: Like I said, it probably won't stick.  
TG: do you think this thing with jake is gonna stick  
TT: ...I don't know.  
TT: Like you said, we have forever, right?  
TT: So I guess it'll get sorted.  
TT: You're the Knight of Time.  
TT: Maybe I should be asking you that.  
TG: just because i guard it doesnt make me a fortune teller  
TG: you need jade or kanaya or rose for that whacky shit  
TG: do you wanna talk about it  
TT: ....Not right now.  
TT: You're sure you're going to the party?  
TG: yeah  
TG: hell yeah  
TG: get together of the century  
TG: wouldnt miss that little shindig for the world  
TT: Cool.  
TT: I'll slide you a key to the rooftop room.  
TT: If you want to talk, we can do it there.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 00:53:28 on 12.05!

* * *

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 22:02:22 on 12.10!

TG: so what im just supposed to not talk to you for almost a month  
TG: thats unrealistic even for me  
TT: Do you know how long it had been since the last time we talked before I messaged you last week?  
TG: uh  
TG: a few days  
TT: try a few weeks.  
TT: Three weeks, if you want to be specific.  
TG: holy shit are you sure?  
TT: Yeah.  
TG: ive been writing  
TT: I know.   
TT: How's the screenplay going?  
TG: it sure is going   
TG: i recently wrote a bit where sweet bro trips out and hallucinates that hes getting devoured by a whale while hella jeff chokes on his own dick  
TG: sort of symbolizes the futility of life   
TG: and orgasms  
TT: That's some hefty, deep thought there.  
TG: yeah well  
TG: i really think this screenplay is gonna be my magnum opus  
TT: I sure hope it is, after all the time you're putting into it.  
TG: look are we going to talk about the buck-toothed elephant in the room or are we gonna keep dancing around it like some spies in a ballroom scene exchanging witty barbs  
TT: There's nothing to talk about.  
TT: Jake's hypocrisy is just a little much for me.  
TG: wym  
TT: So you remember the falling out we had a year or so ago?  
TG: the one where we binge watched all the james bond movies and figured out youre really into denial?  
TT: Yeah.  
TT: We had another fight after we got back together that I kind of touched on but I mostly skipped over, because it was bullshit and he knows it's buillshit, and it had to do with it being you that I'd shacked up with while we were on the outs.  
TG: oh thats some archaic anti-ectobiological rhetoric is what that is  
TG: we all are the energy of the universe, or what the fuck ever  
TG: and also arent reproducing  
TG: does he think were gonna get mpreg and have some strider squared demigod spawn  
TG: no offense but that sounds like a terrible idea and i dont want to be a mom   
TG: i just want to be the gay uncle in hollywood who makes weird b movies   
TT: You're basically there.  
TG: hell yeah  
TG: did you basically say all that  
TT: I said basically most of that.  
TT: But it doesn't matter, because he's a fucking hypocrite, and he's out at Jade's right now, and she's his date to the Solstice party.  
TT: And you know, he can date who he wants, as long as we talk about it, and I know I'm not the greatest at communication, but he's like.  
TT: Pulling teeth.  
TG: yeah  
TG: listen if you want me to peek down the time vortex and see where things end up  
TT: No.  
TT: Prince of Heart.  
TT: I'm gonna be breaking it until the end of days.  
TG: oh turn off your poetry for five seconds you drama queen  
TT: You're going to come to the Solstice party?  
TG: yeah  
TG: i mean probably  
TG: but in this case probably means yeah  
TG: just dont tell anyone i said yeah yet  
TT: Trust me, your secret is safe with me.

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 00:48:19 on 12.11!

* * *

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 23:59:05 on 12.13!

TG: which of my secrets are safe with you  
TT: Probably all of them.  
TG: thats probably a lot of secrets  
TT: Are you giving me all of them?  
TG: probably not  
TG: ill give you at least a few though  
TG: probably  
TG: idk let me try out a little one and see how it feels  
TT: Okay.  
TG: i also have a desperation denial kink thing, pretty hardcore  
TG: i figured out bc the first dude i ever fucked around with had a pretty big piss kink  
TG: im not super into the piss part except in acts of total desperation  
TG: were talking wiggledances   
TG: red faces  
TG: panting and squirming and all that  
TG: did you know the human bladder can hold up to 20 ounces comfortably  
TG: did you know they make 32 ounce big gulps and bus rides are long  
TT: You ever lose control on public transit?  
TG: no thank god  
TG: theres at least a few limits to my depravity  
TG: squirm for a person is a big yes checkmark  
TG: piss myself for the undiscerning public is a hard no  
TT: Nice.   
TT: How do you feel, now that you've confided in me?  
TT: All a-flutter, miss Daisy?  
TG: like youre still an asshole   
TT: How about I'll trade you a secret for a secret.  
TG: i need to warn you that if the actual name of the game isnt 'kink 4 kink' im going to feel ripped off  
TT: Edging.  
TG: like where you almost cum but then dont  
TT: Yeah.   
TT: It makes everything feel more intense.  
TT: Prolongs the ache.  
TG: huh  
TT: You'd probably like it.  
TG: tbh i probably would lmao  
TG: maybe you can show me on solstice  
TT: Wait, you've really never edged before?  
TG: look i know that im the Knight of Time but that doesnt mean im patient about anything at all ever  
TT: Oh, shit.  
TT: Well, guess what.  
TT: This is 100% a patience-learning exercise.  
TG: edging?  
TT: Fuck yeah.  
TG: i know that you like where this is going but i really dont think i can do it on my own  
TT: I bet you could, with just a little willpower.  
TT: Besides, the more you practice the longer you'll last on Solstice.  
TG: i like how this started off as us trading kinks and ended ten messages later with you offering to introduce me to the wonderful world of orgasm denial  
TT: Would it help if someone else was in charge of you?  
TG: what  
TT: Would it?  
TG: uh  
TG: maybe  
TG: realtalk probably  
TG: realer talk i dont know if im ready for that  
TG: like i said youre cool but  
TT: No, I get it.  
TT: Know that the offer is on the table, okay?  
TG: yeah  
TG: ttyl

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 01:22:57 on 12.14!

* * *

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 23:59:05 on 12.16!

TG: hey  
TT: Do you ever sleep?  
TG: not really  
TG: is the offer really on the table  
TT: If you want it to be.  
TG: okay   
TG: see you on friday

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 01:30:12 on 12.17!


	3. The Wrench in the Works

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 18:12:44 on 12.20!

CG: SO I HAVE A FEW THINGS I WANT TO DROP OFF.   
CG: I DONT WANT TO CAUSE A SCENE OR WHATEVER IF HE'S STILL ON HIS HIGH HOOFBEAST ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG AND WHO GETS TO MAKE CHOICES ABOUT MY LIFESPAN.   
TT: If there's one thing I can say about my darling twin, it's that he really could use a swift kick in the backside.   
TT: But I think the chance of you running into him is minimal, unless you go hunting him down.   
TT: Not that I'm suggesting you should.   
CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DO THAT?   
CG: I'D RATHER CHOKE ON FETID GRUBSAUCE-COVERED FLAPBEASTNUGGETS.   
CG: WHILE SLAMMING MY BULGE IN A FOOD PROCESSOR.   
CG: I DEFINITELY HAVE NO DESIRE TO GIVE HIM A PIECE OF MY MIND OR TELL HIM TO SHOVE WASTE DOWN HIS FOODCHUTE UNTIL HIS GANDERBULBS TURN BROWN.   
TT: So long as we're clear.   
TT: Just text me when you're close.

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 18:45:02 on 12.20!


	4. The Party

It's Friday.

The Lalonde estate sprawls impressively above and beyond you, feathering out from the half-moon driveway that leads up to the spiraling columns and winding staircases that bracket the entrance to the house itself. Carapacians scurry up to your little sporty-looking self-driving car and fight over the remote controller as you saunter up to the doors. You imagine what's waiting for you beyond the doors as you shift under the bright red sweater you'd found tucked into a corner of your dresser. Nobody else is wearing a sweater, you note with a roll of your eyes; but you'd prepared for this - you captcha the unfortunate item to reveal a dapper vest over a long-sleeved shirt, classic records monogrammed in all the appropriate places and new piercings glinting in your lips and nostrils. 

Let it never be said that you lacked in style.

You crept through the edges of the party, because it was easier to skulk from room to room like a ghost when nobody was bothering you. You'd been right in thinking being here without him would trip you up; here's the window where he first stumbled over trying to explain the difference between pale and red. Here was where he'd kissed you for the first New Years of the new planet. Here was where he'd sank to his knees and two steps away is a room where you can hear the sounds of party so you stubbornly point your feet at the place where there is light and sounds and force yourself away from the memory of how empty you were and towards the place where your family is.

No amount of trying to shove it away keeps it out of your thoughts. The hurt look on his face when you'd told him you didn't want to die for him, you didn't want to die at _all_ , you'd had enough dying to last several lifetimes and him dying was on the lowest end of 'shit you wanted to experience again'. You don't want to think about it but you're thinking about it anyway, and you swear silently at yourself as you scout the room for the bar you know has to be tucked in it, because that's part of Rose's flair in her personal manor. Well-stocked bars and towering bookshelves.

It won't stop bothering you. You can feel it on your face. at least one person, you know, can see it, because in the land of pokerfaces the one lip-twitched man is king.

"Hey, Dave."

Dirk to the rescue, even if the only thing he's rescuing you from is your own thoughts. He's not anywhere near you, but his voice still rings across the room. You locate its' origin easily enough; he's leaning against the very bar you seek, surrounded by a small knot of your friends and family. You try to hide your relief as you adjust your trajectory and let set sail for this particular minibar. "Sup?"

Dirk's smile is somehow neutral. "How many ounces can a human bladder hold?"

You pause, considering. You know he knows you know this, and he wouldn't put you on the spot for no reason, would he? "Is there money riding on this?"

Dirk's eyes cut to the left. Jake's expression is one of sly arrogance, and Jade's trying not to look interested. "There may, in fact, be something of _much greater value_ than that riding on this."

You don't pause to consider what that could be. Of the things you could do for your not-quite-brother, 'wingman' is probably the easiest role you can play. "Twenty ounces, at maximum comfort," you answer on your way across the room. Halfway there, you, pause. "At thirty-two ounces, things get, y'know," you take a moment to wiggle your hips, earning a round of snickers from the crowd. You live and die in moments like this. "Sssquirmy." 

You drag the syllables out until you've reached Dirk's elbow, and you bump him affectionately - the silent _hey, sup_ of Striderdom - as Jade googles furiously and you fix yourself a screwdriver. She nods and shows Jake the phone, who groans. "How did he _know?_ "

"My first boyfriend had a piss kink."

"Your _first_ boyfriend had a piss kink?" Jake wonders aloud. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

" _Hey!_ " you hear John cry from approximately three feet and two groups to your right.

"None of your business," you tell Jake, reclining back to shout down the length of the room at John. "You out yourself every time you talk, Egbert, jesus." You roll your eyes, winking at him as you turn to perch yourself beside Dirk. "Talk less, look pretty more."

He snorts. "Speak for yourself, Stri-dork." 

You bat your eyes coquettishly at him, until he blushes and turns back to Jane, who is half-tangled in Roxy's arms. Roxy giggles and winks at you. You can read her triumph in her expression, so you turn away, surveying the dissipitating crowd around you and trying not to read into it.

"A good little get-together," remarks Dirk at your elbow.

Dirk to the rescue. As always. You chuckle. "A fine shindig."

"Quite the humdinger."

"A real blast."

"Where's your sweater?"

"Where's yours?"

"Listen," Dirk says, all serious in a flash, fast enough to make your pulse skip a beat. The crowd you'd been studiously not noticing dispersing has effectively melted, leaving you and Dirk alone at the bar. You're aware of his loosened tie and the sharp bite of whiskey on his breath. Something about the sudden tension of his voice, low and husky, in the middle of the yearly party is heady, and your pulse picks up several more paces as he continues. "I want you to wait until you're in my room before you even think about pissing tonight."

You're only halfway through your first drink and that still makes all your insides tense. "That's pretty bold of you, Di-Stri."

He smirks at you, leaning a little closer. "If you want me to step off, all you have to do is say the word."

You don't breathe. You can't breathe. You can only barely shake your head. No, you don't want to say the word. No, you don't want him to back off. "Maybe I should be giving you the same order," you breathe, and you delight in watching him shiver. 

"You think you can be the one in control?" He sounds skeptical, and you smirk. 

In one swift movement, you kill your drink and begin to fix another."I think we should see where the night takes us," you tell him, and wink before turning to saunter away. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you step outside.

TT: I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave.  
TG: dont get all gay on me early dirk  
TG: how can we touch dicks later if we use up all our gay points flirting during the party

You flick your phone closed without bothering to wait for an answer, and tuck yourself onto one of the many stone benches in the garden, tapping a cigarette out of your pack. One of the Carapacians scurries by and you pluck a flute of champagne off its tray. You can't tell if the warmth spreading through your belly is psychosomatic or if you've already come far enough to be feeling the effects of the wine. 

Your phone buzzes again.

TT: You really want to make a thing of it?  
TT: I'll match you, drink for drink.  
TT: When you can't take it anymore, you swing by my apartment.  
TG: sounds exciting  
TG: loser cleans up the other one's mess  
TT: sounds good to me.  
TT: see you later.

You smile to yourself as you slide your phone into your pocket, lighting your cigarette and sighing as you survey the well-manicured landscape that is your sister's girlfriend's gardens. It's going to be an interesting night, that's for sure.

* * *

About an hour later, as you prowl your way through the party, you round a corner and find yourself suddenly face-to-face with a troll who you were not at all expecting to see, and you can feel the way the bottom of your stomach drops out like it's a physical thing, right down to it plummeting through the floor between your feet.

To his credit, he looks suddenly just as shaken as you feel, though he covers it with surly aggravation a lot quicker and easier than you do. He, you note, is wearing a sweater that is very clearly Rose's handiwork. You wonder if it's his tradition. You wonder if he feels less out of place than you do.

You wonder if he hates you. "Sup." You deliver the word as smoothly as you can, doing your best to look like you aren't three drinks and less than two hours in to the first party you've been to since he'd exited your life. You try not to notice that he's gained two inches since the last time you saw him. You try not to notice that his eyes are darker than they were and that his shoulders are broader than yours. 

You try not to notice but you do anyway, and you know he knows you do, because he carefully adjusts his stance to put an extra foot of space between the two of you, his nose wrinkling. "Jesus, Strider, are you drowning in vodka or did you lose a drinking contest?"

"I dumped half a bottle on him. He said something shitty." The voice comes from Dirk, at your elbow, his hand suddenly on your arm. Dirk, your savior, and this time from more than just the memory of Karkat. "I thought you weren't coming?"

His discomfort is obvious, and your heart twists. "I had some shit to drop off. I wasn't going to let this come and go without my half of 12th Perigee's Eve handed out. Do you know where Rose is?"

"Kitchen," Dirk supplies. "It's been good to see you."

"Fuck off," Karkat grumbles. "See ya, Dave." The words come out as a grunt, and he trundles off down the hall like he's nothing special, like his presence alone isn't enough to make you reel. To his uncaring credit, it shouldn't be, and you know that. It's been two and a half years, and you know _that_ , and yet you still remain silent until Dirk's guided your half-drunk ass out into the gardens. 

He fishes your smokes out of your own pocket, and when he sets the stick against your lips, you pluck it from his fingers almost thoughtlessly, letting him light it without complaint. "He wasn't supposed to be here," you say numbly. 

Dirk's chuckle is soft, and he steals a drag from your cigarette. Unlike Karkat, he's taller than you, and that means he can stand with his arms draped over your shoulders, which he is. The casual way he's affectionate with you in this moment is enough to send a thrill down your spine, and when his free hand smooths over your belly and probes lightly at your half-full bladder, you choke on an unexpected noise. "I don't care that he is. Do you?"

Your ears are tingling. So are your cheeks. So is your dick. "I don't want to."

"Yeah, and I don't want to care that Jake hasn't looked in my direction twice tonight." There's that chuckle again, and this time you feel the heat of his breath rolling past the cup of your ear. "But here we are."

Cigarette smoke, you think, burns less when your eyes are wet. "I thought we weren't going to be each other's rebounds."

He's silent for a second, and you lean back against him. His chest is solid and steady against your back. "I don't know if tonight counts."

This time, it's you chuckling. "If you don't want tonight to count, it doesn't have to." You stub your cigarette out against the sole of your shoe and tuck the butt instinctively into your pocket, turning to face him. "Is that how it's gonna be?"

From what you can read of his face, he looks at least a little amused. "I think that'd work well for both of us."

"Cool." You quirk a grin up at him, shoving your hands in the pockets of your smoking jacket. "Mutually assured destruction. I dig it. I'm gonna go get a drink."

He falls into step beside you. "I better get one, too, then. Wouldn't want to lose our little bet so soon."

By the time the two of you cross the threshold back into the house, you're almost over it enough to not crane your head and try to spot Karkat lurking in the halls. Almost. Fortunately, Dirk's not a complete asshole, and he doesn't say anything, and when you don't see him immediately, you stop looking. Within thirty minutes you're two more drinks in and you don't care that Karkat had showed up in the middle of what was supposed to be a Karkat-free evening.

You _do_ care that Dirk's only paying attention to you half the time, but you're not thinking about that. You're thinking about what's coming later, instead.


	5. The Sex

It's a good four hours before you finally tap out, and by the time you're climbing the stairs you can feel your stomach sloshing. Immortality ~~thankfully~~ hasn't taken away the ache of normal bodily functions. Still, you're proud of yourself. The last time you'd spotted Dirk it had been a good hour and a half ago, and for at least thirty of those minutes you'd been entertaining thoughts about what he looked like squirming on his bed and waiting for you to get upstairs.

You take the last flight of stairs two at a time, and by the time you're opening the door to Dirk's apartment, you realize two things:

1), you haven't thought about Karkat almost all night; and  
2), Dirk isn't here yet.

You check all three rooms - bedroom, bathroom, living room/kitchen - and then you check them again, opening the closet doors and shutting them once, twice, three times before you finally think to climb the short stairs that lead to the top of the little concrete box that is Dirk's home at the residence of your cousin-sister-ectotwins. 

The top of the box is so like the rooftop you grew up bleeding on that you have to take a drunk second and sit down near the AC unit, staring out at the sparkling landscape that is whatever New New City that the inhabitants of this new place had slapped together in the past six or seven or whatever years since the Game had ended. Fireworks are bursting over the city, reflecting off of snow miles away and further down the slope of the mountain. The whole thing would be very pretty, really, if it weren't for the fact that the pressure in your stomach is all-consuming and all you can think about is how Dirk must have cheated, he must have, because there's no way he's lasted as long as you unless he just didn't drink at all and now you're going to lose this challenge and he isn't even anywhere to watch you fall apart.

You squeeze your thighs together, sucking in a small breath as the smallest stream squirts from the tip of your dick. The restraint makes your cock twitch, and your breath shudders out in response. _Fuck._

You'd been so confident. Stamina you thought you had in spades. You'd known patience wasn't your forte, but you'd been sure you could tolerate _this._ This wasn't about patience. This was about tolerance, except it's starting to look like you don't have enough of either.

You can hear the question in his voice, delivered with confidence. Panache. _Hey, Dave. How many ounces..._

You'd known the answer and he'd known you'd known it, because you'd trusted him with your secrets and now he's subtly using them against you to leave you at his mercy.

It's impossible, in this moment and on this rooftop, to forget who the original progenitor of the Strider line had been, and so you cast around, scouring the stippled asphalt and rough concrete for the round, unblinking eyes of the cameras your Bro had put everywhere, throwing out a couple middle fingers for good measure, aiming for the watching lenses you can't see but you know are there all the same. It's hard to look with any seriousness, though, because each passing second makes you more and more aware of the ache between your legs and how close you are to not being able to think straight. 

There might be lenses, there might not be. Dirk isn't Bro, and you know that; but at the same time, the idea that you're this close to coming to pieces and there's not even the passive, watchful cameras that had captured every second of your life before the age of 13 to watch you now is almost unbearable. You, Dave Strider, are on the verge of collapse and there's no Bro, no Dirk, no Karkat, nobody at all to see you. 

Whatever. If this is going to continue, you should get off the roof. You have no intention of being stuck up here when your bladder finally betrays you.

You give the asphalt one last slow once-over before starting towards the ladder, crawling carefully, because you're too drunk and too close to trust your ability to stand. You probably would have made it, too, if it weren't for the fact that as you reach for the rail, Dirk's face is suddenly inches from yours, and he blinks owlishly at you from behind his sunglasses (redundant, at two in the morning) before clearing his throat. "Up or down. Your call."

You think about the amount of movement you're going to have to pull off to climb that ladder. You think about staying on the roof where the wind is already making you colder than you want it to. "Down."

He nods, and you groan as you swing your legs over the roof. The pressure of the concrete lip of the building biting into your stomach makes you bite down on a moan, and by the time you're on the same level as Dirk, he's smirking. "How ya feelin'?"

He's close enough that you can taste the licorice of the Jaeger he'd been shooting earlier and drunk enough that the Southern is coming out. You wonder at the accent on this guy who grew up a thousand years in the future and a million miles away from the next living soul. "Like I could drown you in my piss." 

His hand is cool on your stomach, and colder when his fingers wriggle past the hem of your slacks. You can feel the shape of your bladder when he spreads his palm out over your skin, massaging and pressing at the overly-full organ, kneading it through your flesh. You can't help the whimper that slips out of you any more than you can help the way you rock up into his touch. "Do you want me to let you piss?"

His hand is slipping lower, though he keeps pressure on you; his wrist biting into your skin as his fingers fit around the base of your shaft. You struggle helplessly in his grasp, hips dancing in an orgy of small movements, a futile attempt at keeping still as he begins to tug lightly at you, his movements restrained by the fabric of your pants. 

When his teeth graze your throat, you yelp, and he slaps your hands away from the button of your pants. "I asked you a question. Do you want me to let you make a mess?"

"Y-Yeah," you breathe, arching back against him. Everything about this _hurts,_ burning in a way that's delicious. He's still working you with slow, stunted jerks, and you can't help the way you're grinding into his hand. You have to piss so badly that your whole body seems to hum with need

He's shoving you up against the door to the rooftop building, and you groan at the feel of his hips against yours. He's panting against the back of your neck and you remember, suddenly, that you'd both taken the no-piss challenge, and he's just as full as you are. 

His hand paws past your chest, fiddling with the lock and opening the door, and you stumble as you fall through the doorway, ending up sprawled on the floor at his feet. Rolling over onto your back, you look up at the imposing figure your not!brother makes, looming in the doorway, your chest tightening with some mix of excitement and fear. "I want you to make a mess for me," he informs you. "But first I want you to take care of a problem I'm having." There's a rasping hunger edging his words, and it makes you shiver. "Didn't you promise you'd clean up my mess?" 

When he catches his zipper you can hear every tooth click open as they part way to expose the bulge in his boxers, where his dick is straining against the fabric. "Yeah," you murmur, barely trusting yourself to breathe. "I did."

"Then you should get to work."

The idea that you're going to have to wait _even longer_ before you get some sort of release is enough to make you groan, and you squeeze your thighs together for what feels like the hundredth time. "Dirk, I can't--"

He interrupts you. "If you happen to make a mess of your own, all the better." He nudges at your knee with one foot. "Get up."

Your cheeks are on fire. Your cheeks are enough to burn down this whole fucking estate. He's impatient, and by the time you've struggled to your knees (were your slacks always this tight?) and settled in front of him his dick is already out and when you open your mouth he rubs the head of it over your lips before sliding his hand through your hair and yanking your mouth against him with enough roughness that he bumps the back of your throat and makes you gag. The hem of your slacks is a lot less forgiving than you thought it was and you can feel every inch of it, where it's stretching tight across your abdomen and biting into your bladder. You can feel, too, the heat spreading down through your dick and beginning to leak from the tip, the fabric of first your briefs and then your pants clinging as you slowly soak them, and you can do nothing, nothing at all, because Dirk's in charge and arguing with him isn't at the top of your happy funtimes list, or even anywhere on the list of Shit You Want To Do Today. You're a mess without even touching yourself and completely at the mercy of one Dirk Strider, on your knees with his hands in your hair keeping you right where he wants you to be.

He's groaning while he's fucking your throat, and there's tears flowing hot and fast down your cheeks as he uses your mouth, the puddle between your legs growing with each passing second as you struggle with futile whimpers to restrain yourself. When he shoves you away from him there's a wet squelch as you shift on your knees, and he surveys the mess you've made in the shadowy hallway with an expression you can't read by moonlight alone. "Did you piss yourself while you sucked my dick?"

You thought your cheeks were on fire before. "While you fucked my mouth." The distinction might not seem like much, but you're sure if you'd been at least a _little_ in charge you could've stopped some of it. "You said you wanted me to."  
"Yeah." He's idly stroking his dick as he watches you. "Take them off. Your pants."

It's harder to get out of your slacks when they're dripping, and you shed your shoes, your socks, and your briefs on your way up, leaving them in a damp pile in the floor. Dirk's hands are on your chest, and as the two of you fumble your way out of the hallway and into his bedroom, he divulges you of your shirt and undershirt while you strip away the entirety of his outfit. You're both bare by the time the backs of your knees hit the bed, and when you go down so does he, dropping to his knees and taking your dick into his mouth in one fell swoop. You're sensitive and not-quite-hard, so the suction he applies makes you shudder. _"Jesus!"_

Your ability to make intelligible words is gone very shortly, and by the time he's done you're close enough that you can barely manage to do more than whine at him as he staggers to his feet. "That's one," he tells you. "And you're not allowed to cum until we reach at _least_ three. Do you understand?"

You don't trust yourself to speak. You nod, and he smiles, kneeling between your legs.

You're not sure when he got the lube out of the bedside table, but it's cold and sudden around your hole all the same, and his finger feels bigger than it should. The fact that it only remains one finger inside you for about thirty seconds makes you stiffen, and by the time he's slid a third finger into you you're whimpering. He curls his fingers enough to find and hit your prostate and then both you and your dick are at attention and you're rocking back against his fingers. He brushes kisses over your cock while he settles into a steady rhythm, fucking his fingers into you while teasing your shaft with his mouth, and when he finally takes you fully past his lips you jerk, thrusting hungrily up into his throat.

He gives you one, two, three good strokes before he jerks back, choking. "Fucking," he coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Your hips are shuddering, and you can feel the burning wave of your orgasm rolling around the edges of your consciousness. As he withdraws his hand, it retreats, accompanying the sensation of being emptied with a suddenness so complete that it's almost shocking. You could cry, and your breath is coming in hot, fast pants. 

"Impatient shit." He plants a kiss to the tip of your quivering dick. "Is that two?"

Your voice isn't anywhere to be found, so you manage one small nod. Yeah, you almost got off. Yeah, you're on the edge of losing your mind. Yeah, that's two.

"Good." He shifts, and now you can feel the head of his shaft against your hole. "I'm going to fill you up," he informs you, "And then I'm going to fuck the cum out of you. And you're gonna keep your hands off this hungry cock." His hand closes around you, squeezing your dick, making you moan. "Do you understand?"

You still don't trust yourself to speak. So, again, you nod, and this time, the act is accompanied with the sensation of him pressing into you, and you close your eyes, willing your body to relax as his hips press close to yours. His dick feels bigger in your ass than it did in your mouth, and when he begins to move, you don't bother trying to be quiet, moaning with each slow rock of his hips against yours. Your dick, twitching and hard, bounces each time his hips hit yours, and by the time he's found a rhythm he likes you're hardly aware of anything outside of the ache of sensations between your legs. 

When he pulls out of you and stretches out on the bed, you don't need instructions, climbing atop him and straddling him without a word. When you brace yourself against his stomach you can feel the swell that is his swollen bladder bulging beneath his skin. Pressing on it makes him moan, and _that's_ a sound you can get used to, Dirk moaning beneath you while you bounce atop him, and you massage your hands over his skin until he's almost sobbing with it. 

You're not given long atop him before he's throwing you to the bed, your face shoved into the pillow as he yanks your hips back against him. At this angle, he's hitting that sweet spot with every long thrust, until it's you that's almost sobbing, your hands twisted in the sheets and your dick straining in the air with every rough thrust. "Dirk," you manage, his name twisted in your mouth. " _Please,_ fuck, please--"

"What." His voice is hot against your ear. "You wanna cum for me?"

You don't know how you're managing words, but you are. "Please-- fuck, _fuck_ , please, f-fill me up--Dirk, you fucking--" He bucks against you and you nearly scream. _"Fuck!"_

Stars. You're seeing stars, and he's not saying anything, instead doubling the pace, gasping, his hands biting into your hip as he rides you roughly, desperately, and when he goes rigid against you it's in time with all your muscles tensing, and you can feel him pumping you full of his seed while your own sprays in thick ropes over the bed beneath your shaking form, and when you're utterly spent, you collapse into the mess you've made, because there's no more strength to hold you up.

He swats your ass as he rises from the bed, and you grunt at him in response, because the world is a warm bliss of floating exhaustion. "We should do this more often," he tells you on his way from the bedroom, and you smirk, mostly to yourself.

More often. "Sounds good," you mumble, rolling over and closing your eyes. 

Honestly, you're very, very glad you came to your sister's Solstice party.


End file.
